


Nine or None

by 7point13



Series: lonely nights and lonelier people [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: After Felix and Minho rejoin Stray Kids, After The Elimination, Depressed Minho, Depressing, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Relationships, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jisung is a actual angel, OT9 - Freeform, Possible Minho/Jisung, These fluffballs don't deserve my sadness, me projecting, minho centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 15:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14622105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7point13/pseuds/7point13
Summary: "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was supposed to be strong but I-""It's okay hyung, let it out. It's perfectly okay to cry. I'm here"Since he was fourteen Minho's life has revolved around a bottle of pills and a blade. When Jisung finds out a secret only long sleeves and locked doors can hide Minho finally finds that he has someone he can rely on. Or, more accurately, nine people who love him too much to leave him behind."It's nine of none. We love you too much to lose you again"





	Nine or None

**Author's Note:**

> Haha guess who feels like shit right now? Anyway my self-hate always manifests into shit like this but this one isn't bad so here?? (also disclaimer, I know nothing about dance or learning how to dance so if I get anything wrong then don't come for me)
> 
> (Also also, this is based off my own experience. The things expressed in this story may not be the same for everyone)

One, and two, and three, and-

No that wasn't right. Sighing, Minho stopped. Running a hand through his sweat soaked hair, the blond walked over to the corner of the practice room. It was past two am and the others had left a while ago. He footsteps could faintly be heard over the music. Slumping against one of the foggy mirrors, Minho paused the familiar sound, letting the silence engulf him. Closing his eyes, Minho felt the cold seeping through his simple black sweatshirt. He was supposed to be one of the main dancers and he couldn't even get this one thing right.

"Stop it", he hissed to himself. "You're tired and stressed. You did the best you could do and that's fine. Just get a good night sleep and tomorrow everything will be better", he whispered to the empty room. He was lying to himself. Every day seemed to be the same now. Wake up too early, eat too little (in his "professional" opinion), practice with the others, stay behind because he can't risk being eliminated even though the show has ended, go back to the dorm, list off everything you did wrong today, tally the mistakes, wash the blood, sleep, repeat. He was living his dream. But who could call this living? He only made it through the day thanks to the bottle full of pills hidden in his bundles. The small, white life savers he had gotten too used to taking each morning.

He could remember the look on his mother face when they told her. He was only fourteen when they found out. Of course, he already had a hunch. You can only live in denial for so long when your own brain is the problem. That night, the disappointment on her face was the first thing in his tally. If the others ever found out... Minho didn't know if he could handle disappointing them like that. Not again. He was one of the oldest. He had to be strong. He had to be there for the 00-01 line like Woojin and Chan. He couldn't be seen as weak.

Chugging the rest of his water, the blond boy began to gather his things. Slinging his bag over one shoulder, Minho turned one last time, glancing at himself in the mirror. "Not good enough, but what's new?", he brain snarled. Sighing, Minho flicked off the lights, drowning the room in darkness. He couldn't help but think about the darkness drowning him too.

Quiet footsteps echoed through the ~~very~~ early morning air. A fierce wind blew the cold onto his tired figure but Minho didn't mind, for once his sweatshirt was being used for something other than hiding his secrets. The towering city was illuminated by street lamps and the occasional window. Minho was basically alone. The streets where almost abandoned and the only sign of life was the occasional car soaring down the road. "You know, nobody would notice if you jumped in front of a car tonight", his own voice taunted. "I bet the other's wouldn't even care", Minho just signed, turning up his music to block out his own mind. As Min Yoongi's  _The Last_ blasted through his earphones he sighed. "You'll never be as good as Yoongi", it came back. Of course, it did. Pulling his earphones out, Minho just frowned. He just had to make it home. His tally always seemed to make it go away long enough for him to sleep.

Blond hair shone under the warm light coming from the dorm building. Avoiding all forms of eye-contact Minho rushed up the stairs. The other members never seemed to understand why he preferred to take the stairs. They didn't seem to mind the long, uncomfortable wait for the metal deathtrap or the awkward long ride. Besides, he could use the exercise.

Swinging open the dorm door, Minho was greeted with the familiar light coming from Chan, and Changbin's room. By now, Minho had grown accustomed to seeing that light slipping through the crack under their door whenever he came back at ungodly hours  ~~which was every night nowadays~~. Silently creeping into their room, Minho giggled at the sight he stumbled into. Changbin was slumped against his bed, a notebook full of lyrics still resting against his legs, pen still grasped tightly in his hands. Their leader had fallen asleep, head resting in his arms, at his desk once again.

The pair had a habit of staying up too late working on songs for the group. Chan, in particular, had gotten worse after the show. He lost Felix ~~" and you but what difference did you make?", his mind sneered~~. That had done some damage. Chan was determined not to let that happen again. Some days Minho saw a familiar look in Chan's eyes. The same one he saw whenever he looked in the mirror. But as much as he wanted to comfort him, at times like these things like that are better left unsaid. Shaking his head he walked towards them. Gently placing his bag on the floor, the blond pull the blankets from each respective bed, draping them over the two sleeping boys. It was the least he could do. "They don't care about you. Why bother?" it smirked. "I can still be kind", Minho whispered. Slipping out the door, making sure to grab his bag on the way out, he quietly flicked off the lights and slid the door to a close behind him. 

He stopped by his and Woojin's room, only briefly, to drop off his bag and retrieve a familiar box. His hyung's sleeping form, shifted slightly, startling the younger boy. Minho stopped dead, eyes shut tight, listening for any other movement. He hoped to god that he wouldn't be caught. He needed this. When everything fell still again the boy made his way out of the room and to his second home. 

Harsh light reflected off white surfaces as he flicked the light on. He could see himself in the mirror, squinting as his eyes adjusted, dark bags prominent under his eyes. Nothing that makeup couldn't fix. Sighing at his face he pulled open the bathroom cupboard, sliding the familiar first aid kit from its place. Grabbing out some fresh bandages he reminded himself to get some more the next day, they were running low after weeks of use. Placing the white fabric on the cool bench, Minho placed the container beside it. The box itself was black plastic, glinting in the light from above. Removing the lid Minho smiled at the sight of his old friends. Rolling on its side was a familiar bottle, rattling with the pills he had become reliant on. Next to that, nestled in a scrap of cloth, was the pencil sharpener that kept him alive. Or as close as he could get anyway. He had long since become accustomed to taking it apart. Releasing the cool metal from it's blue, plastic shell. He could just throw away the useless bit but it was easier to carry around a pencil sharpener than a loss razor. 

Rolling up his sleeves Minho stared at the artwork lining his right forearm. His daily tally colored his skin. Some now only scars. Others bright red and stinging. No, it wasn't exactly beautiful. But to Minho, these cuts were one of the most precious things in the world. Performing his familiar routine Minho smiled softly at the sting on his arms, the red dripping into the sink, standing out against the white.

As he tallied he counted every mistake he made today. The times he messed up the choreography while Hyunjin and Felix aced it effortlessly. His voice falling flat in vocal practice only to watch as Seungmin sang like an angel. Walking into the practice room the morning only for Jeongin's previous laughter to fall silent. They were better off without him. He knew it too. Minho had watched as everything he worked for had been torn from his grasp like a teddy ear being pulled from a pair of hands that just aren't strong enough. JYP had confirmed every fear that Minho ever had. He was a failure. He was never good enough. And now he was back. It would affect the whole group if he didn't get everything right. He had to get it right. As he drew lines upon his skin he smiled at the pain and the blood but he never shed a single tear. He hadn't cried since that night. The first night he spent in his new room alone. The same night when he had carved so deep he was sure he would die. Only to awaken the next morning and realize that he almost wanted to.

"Hy-Hyung?"

Minho swears under his breath, spotting Jisung in the mirror. The younger boy was clad in a plain tee and some pajama pants, obviously, he hadn't been as quiet as he thought. And he forgot to lock the door. Quickly Minho wiped the cool metal clean of any blood, before shoving it back into the container. "Jisung", He says, hissing as his hand pushes down on open wounds. "I thought everyone was asleep", he said, spinning to face the younger. Minho watches anxiously as Jisungs eyes flick from the things scattered on the sink counter, to Minho's right arm. The young boy takes a shaky breath, running his fingers through his messy brown hair, before carefully walking towards the older boy. Hesitantly, the brunette takes hold of Minho's arms, revealing the patchwork beneath his hand. Minho trains his gaze on the floor. "He hates you", his brain sneered. "I told you he would. You do nothing but bring the group down. You should have died that night", for once Minho agreed. He could handle JYP eliminating him. He could take the mistakes he seemed to always make. But Jisung being disappointed in him. He should have died that day. At least he would never have to see this.

The feel of cold water rushing over his skin snapped him out of his spiral. Jisung tenderly rinsed the angry, red marks with tears gathering in his eyes. Carefully his gentle hands dried Minho's scared skin before wrapping it away in crisp bandages. When the younger boy had cleaned away the mess he looked up at his hyung. Minho looked back. Jisung's brown eyes were filled with unshed tears. For the first time since his elimination Minho cried.

There was a sharp thud as he collapsed onto the tiled floor. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was supposed to be strong but I-", a strong pair of arms wrapped around his shaking figure covering him in warmth. "It's okay hyung, let it out. It's perfectly okay to cry. I'm here", Minho clung to the younger like a lifeline. Cool fingers dug into the fabric of his t-shirt as Jisung whispered words of comfort to the weeping boy.

"Are you okay? I heard a...Shit", Minho heard Felix's deep voice swear in english from the doorway. "Could you wake the others and bring them to the living room? I'll talk to Minho hyung", Jisung said, voice shaking slightly. Minho could only assume the Australian agreed as the door clicked closed. "Do you want to talk to the others? I think it will be a good idea and I'll be there the whole time", Jisung whispered soothingly to his sniffling hyung. Minho froze up at the thought. It was bad enough that Jisung had  _seen_  him and his tally but to tell everyone else. "They'll hate me", Minho chocked out.

Jisung gasped softly. "Hyung we could never. You're our Minho hyung. We all love you so much. We could never hate you. Nine or none, remember?" he whispered. Minho nodded wiping away his tears as he looked at the floor. "Hey look at me", Jisung softly lifted Minho's face to his. "Nobody's going to hate you. And if they do, which they won't, I promise to talk some sense into them for you. I could never hate you, okay?"

Nodding, Minho stood to his feet, unsteadily. Jisung ross with him, wrapping an arm around his waist for support. Carefully the pair pushed open the door. When the walked into the living room he heard a few gasps and sobs. Minho realized that his right sleeve was still rolled up. He quickly moved to cover the bandage wrapped tightly around his forearm before a soft voice called out from the floor. "Don't", Seungmin was curled up next to Hyunjin gazing at Minho with tears in his eyes. "Please", Minho simply nodded, sniffling slightly. 

"Minho?", Chan's calm, slightly shaky, voice asked kindly once the pair sat down on one of the soft couches. He shook his head, gazing at his feet. "Minho, please. Let us help", Changbin pleaded from his spot next to Felix. That was all it took for Minho to break. Words flow from his mouth like a waterfall between sobs. He talks about his pills, hidden away in their bottle, of his tally, lining the insides of his wrist, and about the night he got eliminated. 

By the time he's finished, Minho is in tears again. "I'm so sorry", he chocks out, burying his face in his hands. "I'm so so sorry. I know that I'm letting you down, that I failed all of you, and I get it if you don't want to debut with me anymore".

"Shut up hyung", he hears someone say from across the room. "Never ever say something like that ever again. We will never be Stray Kids without you. It's nine of none. We love you too much to lose you again", Jeongin sobs, on the verge of shouting. "I can't lose you again hyung. None of us can", the youngest sobs once more, wrapping Minho in a tight embrace, the others soon following suit.

In this moment Minho knew that everything would be okay. He may stumble. He may make mistakes. And it certainly wouldn't be easy. But he would always have them. His members. His friend-No. His family.

Nine or None.

Nothing would break them apart.

**Author's Note:**

> Making this super clear so nobody attacks me. I don't hate Minho. He is amazing. I love him (and all the boys). He is perfect as himself and none of the bad this the "depression' said are true. I'm just projecting.


End file.
